The retrieval spell coiled around his wrist, jerked, and dropped the bag neatly back into her arms. But then she shrieked as he swooped in swiftly, made a grab. He twisted and she ended up in his arms, in the air, her body swinging over his. Losing her grip on the paper sack, she grabbed at his shoulders. In her worry about falling, she'd abandoned worry about her broken finger, but he hadn't. Before she could make the mistake of seizing at him with both hands, he'd completed the rotation, landing her on her feet, holding her with one arm around the waist, the bag dropping into his open hand on the other side of his body.
"No honor among thieves or angels," she snorted, though a little breathlessly.
David grinned down at her, handed back the bag. "You'd probably refuse to charm them anyway."
"I'd turn them into great big bugs to crawl around inside you. Make you squirm when talking to Jonah."
"He can make me squirm all on his own." David chuckled. "Sometimes he makes me feel like a kid caught smoking in the school bathroom. His daughter's not going to be able to get away with anything."
"He does do the intimidation thing well. Even better than Neptune." She dropped her voice several octaves. "I will vanquish you, pathetic mortal."
David let out a startled snort. "That came from Anna."
Mina shrugged. "I may not have a sense of humor, but I can borrow from others."
"Speaking of acting like a kid..." He stopped her with a touch on her arm, cocked a hip, a thumb sliding into his belt as he looked down into her face. A bracing pose, as if the words were difficult for him. "I should have handled all that better, at the diner. I'm sure I scared you. You're supposed to be able to depend on me. I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "We can't fathom the purpose of evil when it strikes those we love. Anna said that once as well. I assume it applies to everyone, even creatures as enlightened as angels."
"That sounded like your usual sarcasm. I'm feeling better already. Is that your way of trying to coax me out of a dark mood?"
"I would never do something that compassionate."
"True." David pursed his lips. "You might do it so you don't have to listen to me whine and moan about my past anymore."
"Perhaps you're starting to understand me after all," she said lightly.
He'd effectively pushed them away from the subject, but if the Schism had raised it, whether he liked it or not, they would be visiting it again. She'd let the magic take care of that. For now, she had other issues. As if a curtain had lifted from the landscape, the house lay before them, no more than several hundred yards ahead.
THE light impression of a dirt road was beneath their feet, the house driveway intersecting it. As they walked up the driveway, she examined the wood-and-stone two-story house that had been crafted by the master carpenter and his wife. There was a wooden split rail fence around it, and she saw the protection runes carved there, even as she felt the first wave of its specific energy reach out and assess her threat.
It almost made her stop, step back. But this was the moment of truth, and she wasn't going to cower from it. Squaring her shoulders, she moved forward. One careful step, then another.
David stayed close and watchful. Knowing David, he'd leap to her defense even before she had the chance to do it herself. It didn't anger her as it would have done less than forty-eight hours ago. Now it just made her feel an exasperation with him, as well as a reassurance she couldn't deny.
The house was simple. Beautiful. Built with love and yet careful alignment with the energies of the land. She suspected "Sam the Shaman" had been part of the design phase. Its position and construction made sure that no approach would go unnoticed, sitting just inside the scope of that magical fault line that didn't tolerate Dark Ones.
She opened the latch on the gate, pushed it inward and walked onto the grounds.
Well, apparently, it only rejected full-blooded ones. Unless it had a different line for half-breeds, waiting to blast them farther in the perimeter. Power flooded into her body, enhancing her own as it hummed throughout her system. No good or evil to it, just pure energy that vibrated beneath her fingers.
"There are fresh flowers on the front porch," she noted, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. And David noticed, his hand pressing briefly into the small of her back, a gesture that felt far too welcome. Like the house itself.
"Anna probably insisted Jonah flash her over and let her add some homey touches before we got here. Or made him do it. You know she's like that."
"Yes." Mina kept her fingers away from the flowers as she passed, knowing the dew-kissed roses would wilt beneath her touch faster than they would in the desert heat.
The solid, wide oak door had an archway over it with the carved words "Be at Rest Here." For some reason, the antithesis flashed through her mind. Dante's Inferno: "Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here." Dante didn't know that his imaginings of Hell had come straight from the Dark Ones, but she did. She'd recognized it the first time she'd read the book, many years after her first dream of the Dark Ones' world. If men knew how many of their nightmares were simply windows into the world of the Dark Ones, trying to grasp at them through their dreams...
David glanced at his witch. She had gone very quiet as she scrutinized everything about her closely. When he pushed the front door open, she stepped in and he followed, flanking her, trying to gauge her mood. What she might need.
Mina felt his regard, but she focused on the interior. The furnishings of the house were all hand carved. Open kitchen, living area, lots of windows to look out over the flat ranges of desert. The rock formations rose as a backdrop, the sun turning everything brilliant reds and oranges that she knew would likely shift to purple and violet as the day waned. A rainbow offered each day to whoever sat in here and watched the canvas paint and repaint itself, shadows from the clouds always adding something different to the landscape.
There was a tire swing out back, hooked up to a lone leafless tree with spreading branches. Surely a Schism oddity, for it looked like a naked oak, which she couldn't imagine would survive this far away from a water source, beneath a baking sun.
She also saw an intriguingly ordered area comprised of rocks and sand, with patterns in the sand that seemed etched by the rakes propped at the cornerstones, four very large stones with the tops smoothed for sitting and perusing the pattern.
"A Japanese rock garden," David supplied, at her curious glance toward him.
Nodding, she turned from the view and toward an open staircase curving up to the second level. As she followed it, she studied the framed photographs on the wall along it. Mostly desert scenes, but personal, intriguing. Probably picked out by Anna, since she'd always been fascinated by the human ability to capture a moment of time on film, the way Mina admitted being fascinated by the way a writer could capture the same thing on paper. Or perhaps they'd been left by the carpenter and his wife, a shared gift for the next occupants.
Upstairs, she found a large bed in an inviting master bedroom. A thick quilt for the nighttime desert chill, with numerous pillows stacked at the headboard. A scattering of flower petals over the coverlet. The bed was a sanctuary unto itself, so wide and long that Anna apparently had not been exaggerating when she said Matt, the carpenter, was as impressive in size as Jonah. Mina checked the other rooms on the second level and discovered that this was the only one of the upstairs bedrooms prepared for sleeping.
"She probably remembered angels don't necessarily have to sleep," David said casually. Mina shot him a narrow glance, detected amusement there that she did not share.
"I think the only one making assumptions is Anna," she retorted. "She doesn't understand. She never has."
"Or maybe"-David's hands came to rest on her tense shoulders, a thumb making a passing caress along the base of her throat as he stood behind her-"she does understand. She does these things as a way of telling you she'd change it for you, if she could."
Mina shrugged that off, moving away from him
as well. "No sense in that. It is what it is. And why does she assume I'd want any changes to my life?" She shot him a glance. "I'm left alone, with the recent exception of my popularity with overprotective angels. I've dedicated my life to study, so that I've surpassed my ancestors with respect to magic and knowledge of the world around me. I intend to keep building on that."
"And do what with it?"
"Whatever I wish," she snapped.
"Okay." He continued as if the air wasn't crackling with tension around her. "There's an underground spring that runs beneath the house. A hot spring. Jonah said the cellar leads to it. It's a good place for a swim or bath. There's also a cistern. Electrical power is fueled by the Schism's energy, so he said it can be a little unpredictable, but the point is that the house is self-sufficient. There's a general store about ten miles down the road, and an old pickup truck in the garage. I can show you how to drive it. Way out here, I don't think you'll have to worry about a license."
She knew he'd been trying to read her face since she stepped into the perimeter of the property, and she'd purposefully remained dispassionate. Because with every step, the meshing of the energy with her own, the stretch of the world out on either side, the heat of the desert, the blue of the sky... It was perfect. It was everything she could want or need. And the idea of learning to drive a vehicle was astounding enough to almost make her forget herself and insist he show her now. But she kept her voice even, with enormous effort. The expression "too good to be true" had come into being for a reason, she reminded herself.
"You think I'm staying here that long?"
"It's not such a bad idea, is it? This place would be safer for you. Better for your health." His gaze swept over her, seeing too much. "It's dry and warm. And Jonah said Anna would set up an account for you at the store. Before I go, we'll make sure that's been done."
There was a fan rotating on the ceiling. Just as the world turned, but suddenly it felt like the blade was careening in her stomach.
Turning on her heel, she went down the steps and out onto the back porch. Stopping at the edge of it, she drew a deep breath, trying to still the turbulence within her. Winced as she forgot her injury and tried to curl both sets of fingers into tense balls. The quiet had a whisper to it, that faint energy hum. Heat reached up from the desert, soaked into her bones.
She didn't turn around as he came up behind her, but when his body brushed hers, a faint tremor ran through her.
"Mina?"
"You're right; it'll work. For the short term. And I didn't want your protection from the beginning. So this relieves you, Jonah and the rest of them of the personal obligation. And when he decides to throw me out of this house, I'll know he's decided I'm not your problem anymore, anyway."
"Obligation?" He swore softly and turned her, despite her resistance. When he tried to lift her face to him, she jerked it away with a glare. So he hauled her closer, making her slap a hand on his chest to balance herself.
"Let me go."
"I think we need to make something clear," he said instead. "This setup will give you safety. Independence. Maybe the ability to get a good night's sleep. But you're not free of me, witch. I won't be out of your life until you tell me to go, that you don't want me."
"I don't want you. Go away."
He merely raised his brows, drew her closer, until her feet were between his, his hand sliding down the small of her back, and then lower, to cup one buttock with a proprietary ease that had her hackles rising and her nerves sparking. With his other hand he cradled her face, tipped her rigid chin with a not-so-gentle thumb.
"I meant when you don't lie about it. I'm not leaving you, Mina. Are you listening?" He bent closer, until their eyes were no more than a couple inches apart. "I'm not leaving you."
"Why do you think I care? Leave or go; it's the same to me. Just come around when you want this." She pushed her hips against his groin, which was conveniently getting aroused, to prove her point. "The thrill of fucking a freak."
"That's enough of that."
David hadn't meant to respond so ferociously, though the snarled command would have made Jonah proud. It startled her, made her eyes widen in her pale face. Jesus, there were times he had the most overwhelming urge to yank up her skirt and slap her bare ass until it was red.
"Stop it," he repeated, easing his touch when he realized he was gripping her hard enough to bruise. "I'm usually hard around you, and for some perverse reason you provoke me even more when you start snapping at me. It makes me think of all the ways I could keep that viper tongue of yours occupied. But I want more from you, and you know that."
"No. I don't care. I'm not going to listen-"
"Mina, do you remember what I said I'd do if you ever threw another detonation spell at me?"
Her gaze snapped up to him, and he nodded, satisfied. "I will do it for much less physical offenses, as well. And enjoy the hell out of it. So keep talking and give me a reason. Or shut up and listen."
She pressed her lips together. Waiting a bated moment, he took a breath. "This is a place we can spend time together, without having to be on guard against Dark Ones. That has an appeal to me. Watching you study your books, concoct potions. Getting to be by your side while you explore your fascination with the human world, making it your world."
"I'm not human, so why-" At his look, she whitened, crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "You wouldn't dare."
"Once more," he warned. "And you'll find out. In that little town where the store is, there's an old junk shop Anna loves. I know you'll find so many things there you'll like, to make this place more of your own."
He softened then. "Mina, you're not totally human, not totally mermaid. You're you. But I'd have to be blind not to see how this place appeals to you, how a human life would fit better with who you are. I can give you privacy and the solitude you treasure. I do have a duty to the platoon and the Legion. But those are the only reasons I would leave your side, temporarily, and always, always only if I'm assured of your safety.
"So get it through your stubborn head. If I leave here to give you time alone or to serve the Lady, it doesn't mean I'll be gone from your life. You got that?"
Mina held her defensive posture, staring at his chest. "And I'm expected to believe Jonah is just giving me his house forever, for nothing."
"No." He shook his head. "Of course not. He assumes if you're here, under our protection, you'll do us the courtesy of continuing your current efforts to keep the Dark One blood you carry away from the use of your power. As to whether you might consider using your power to help protect the Lady's interests on occasion, that's something you'll have to decide on your own. But you have time before it becomes an issue." He took a breath. "Mina, I'm asking you to look at me this time."
She ground her teeth, her jaw flexing, but in the end she raised her lashes. She didn't necessarily like this, having an argument with their faces so close, where she could see the reflection of her scarred face in his irises, so she shifted to stare at his cheekbone and tried to ignore it, even as she crossed her arms more tightly across herself.
"As long as Anna and I have any say about it, Mina," he said, "you'll be left in peace. You can be safe here. Have a life."
"It's too much. Too soon. I can't..." She shook her head, turned away to look around the porch, back into the house. This time he let her, probably because he did know her. Well enough to know when to get in her face and when not to, maybe better than she did.
Two days ago, she'd not thought beyond the daily routine of her life, the need to survive, to struggle through each day. This house, the energy here, the way it was embracing her in a manner that was devoid of threat... it resurrected a part of her she'd thought she'd long ago destroyed. The wishes of the child were still there. The child who'd been abandoned, tortured. Who'd grown up in the cold and darkness, never expecting or daring to hope for anything. Determined to survive, enough to fight for it every moment she'd breathed, never questioning why she was f
ighting, for the answer would have been so desolate she would have lost the battle. For the first time, she might have an answer she could bear to hear, and the gift of it, after so long, might crack her into a million pieces.
"Mina."
"Don't tell me things like this, David. I can't believe them, you understand?" She turned and stared up into his eyes, trying to convey what she herself wasn't even sure she knew how to say. "I can't afford to believe them. I can only take it moment by moment, okay? You tell me I have this place for the next few moments, that I can consider it mine for just this little bit of time, I can do that. Okay?"
"Okay." He nodded, even as she began to repeat herself, then bit her lip, cutting herself off. He ran his hands up the outside of her arms. "It's all right. Okay."
She closed her eyes, and they stood that way a long moment. He just held her lightly, not pushing. Just reminding her he was there. He was there. And he'd said he'd continue to be there. "I want to go sit in the tire thing," she said.
"Then let's go do that." He stepped back, but retained her hand so they walked down the back porch stairs hand in hand. While her own cooperation flummoxed her, she nevertheless went with him. She stopped at the bottom, though, realizing she'd left her shoes inside, wanting to feel the texture of the wood, the energies moving through it, through her soles. Before she could turn to retrieve them, he made a noise, positioned her a couple steps up and then guided her to take a little hop to ride on his back, her arms looped around his neck, her chest comfortably mashed against his half-spread wings, the tips of the secondary feathers tickling the skin on the insides of her thighs.
"Don't your feet hurt?" Then she glanced down and saw his feet weren't touching the ground, which was scattered with various prickly forms of vegetation and heated sand. "Oh."
There was a cobbled path that intersected from the side of the house, so he let her down when they reached that, and they walked the remaining few steps to the tire swing.
"You sit in it with your feet dangling, and hold the rope, like this." Lifting her by the waist, he directed her to grasp the rope and guided her feet in through the hole with that effortless strength that never failed to impress her, though she tried not to show it. "And then you hold on."